


Whispered Words - [REWRITTEN]

by prettymuchpotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Abusive Vernon Dursley, Anxiety, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, BAMF Poppy Pomfrey, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Cute Harry Potter, Depression, Eventual Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson - Freeform, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley Friendship, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Minor Hermione Granger Bashing, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Misguided Ron Weasley, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Petunia is Somewhat Nice, Ron Weasley Bashing, Short Harry Potter, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tags Are Hard, Tags Contain Spoilers, Vernon Dursley Being an Asshole, but its okay because hes not really bad, ron isnt evil or bad he just has overwhelming feelings, ron sometimes gets in the way of their friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2020-09-28 07:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettymuchpotter/pseuds/prettymuchpotter
Summary: After a horrible summer with the Dursleys, Harry is pushed into an awful school year. His best friend is furious with him, rumours are spreading, and his mental health is rapidly declining.Draco has been observing Harry since, well, first year, and as Harry slips further and further down the slope of poor mental health, Draco can't help but worry.





	1. August Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of my first ever sorta decent fanfic! I'm trying to stick to the main plot, however some ships and plot points will be changed, both to make the story less rushed and to also even out a few spots that don't make very much sense. If you want to read the original, it is still on my profile under the same title as this one! 
> 
> I will not be individually adding trigger warnings to the beginnings of each chapter. The tags contain most of the triggers that the story will contain, so please read with caution if you may be triggered by any topics covered. I mean no disrespect in writing them, but please let me know if I inaccurately portray any of the mental health topics covered, as I'm only going by what I personally know as well as some research I've done.

Number Four, Privet Drive looked the same as it always had, as perfectly normal as any other house in a normal Muggle neighbourhood with normal residents. The August heat coated the entirety of the Surrey area, seeping into poorly insulated houses like the ones on Privet Drive. Harry’s room, in particular, felt as if it were boiling, mostly because Harry had been locked inside for the majority of the week with very little water or food. The single water bottle he had left was nearly empty, and the heat of the room made the bottle foggy on the inside. Harry was sprawled on the lumpy mattress he had so ‘graciously’ been given, not having enough energy to even turn his head. The Dursleys had gone out, Petunia and Vernon off for a movie at the cinema and then a nice lunch out, and Dudley was off with his gang, probably terrorizing children at the park. Harry closed his eyes, giving in to the feeling of exhaustion and weakness that was smothering him, and dozing off. 

A couple hours later, Vernon and Petunia arrived back home, entering the house loudly. Harry awoke slowly, disoriented by the sudden noise. Petunia could be heard bustling around downstairs, putting their lunch leftovers into the fridge. Vernon stomped up the stairs and Harry sat up, bracing himself for whatever was to come.The sound of many locks being undone sounded much louder to Harry than it actually was. Vernon opened the door with a loud bam as it hit the wall, the doorstop having been removed eons ago. “Boy! Get up and go downstairs! Petunia has a list of chores for you!” Vernon barked. Harry scrambled off his mattress, knowing better than to give a verbal reply, even if it was one in agreement to what Vernon had said. He gave Vernon a half nod/half bow as he fled the room, practically running down the stairs. Harry knew much better than to delay in obeying _anything_ that Vernon said, even if it was something as ridiculous as “go dust off the couch” when the couch obviously never needed to be dusted, as it got so much use that not even a speck of dust could adhere to it without being brushed off by a rather large bottom. 

Petunia was standing in the kitchen, busying herself with taking care of her plants sitting on the window sill. She turned as Harry entered the kitchen, even his quiet footsteps were not quiet enough to escape her attention. Harry wasn’t scared of her as he was with Vernon, but he knew better than to make a mistake in front of her, because she’d have no choice but to tell Vernon. While Vernon hated Harry from the day they had discovered him on the front steps, Petunia felt a small, practically miniscule bond towards the boy, as that was her sister’s son, and even though she’d been extremely jealous of Lily and her abilities, she still held admiration and respect for her younger sister. Petunia knew she couldn’t shield Harry from Vernon, but she could do her best to at least show him a little care, albeit not enough to cause a huge impact in Harry’s life. Vernon would have caught on, and Petunia shuddered to think about how that would go over. Bringing herself back to the present, Petunia gestured to the small slip of paper on the counter. “There are the chores I need completed. Vernon would like a beef stew for dinner, so you should have that prepared around six.” She said, not unkindly. Harry exchanged a glance with her, a mutual understanding for what would happen if dinner wasn’t prepared on time. “Yes, Aunt Petunia, I’ll start on these right away.” He replied politely, and she gave him an uneasy smile before shooing him out of the kitchen. 

The list of chores she had given him was not terribly long, just cleaning the upstairs bathrooms and vacuuming the carpet in the hall upstairs. At this point, Vernon had trudged his way downstairs and was slumped on the couch, enjoying a trashy TV program, although he would never admit that he watched such filth. It was only around one in the afternoon, so Harry didn’t rush as he made his way through the three bathrooms upstairs. Dudley’s was by far the worst of them, dirty to the point of it looking barely like a bathroom at all. As Harry was cleaning behind the toilet, a stack of ‘adult’ magazines fell out onto the floor. Harry grimaced at the lewd images and quickly slid them back into the space they had been tucked into. Moving onto Petunia and Vernon’s bathroom, theirs was significantly less disgusting, although it contained both a shower and a jacuzzi bath, which increased the amount of time it took to clean. Finally, Harry cleaned his own bathroom, which really didn’t need much cleaning at all considering he was barely allowed to use it and it was more of the upstairs guest bathroom than his own. Nonetheless, he tidied it and made sure his stashes of bandages and medicine were still well hidden and the medicine within date. He returned the bathroom supplies to the closet and dragged out the vacuum, a miserably noisy thing which was probably at least 5 years too old to be actually effective in cleaning. Harry very briefly ran the vacuum (taking longer would cause Vernon to become irritated by the noise) before scampering down the steps to prepare dinner. 

Petunia had left the kitchen by now and was sitting at her computer, probably emailing her garden club friends about the next event. Vernon was asleep on the couch, the TV blaring in the background. Harry wasted no time in pulling out ingredients and preparing them, in a near professional way. Even at just barely 16, Harry had to stand on a small stool to reach the counter comfortably or to reach things in the back of the fridge. He supposed his shortness was due to the lack of nutrition and proper care he got as a child, but he preferred to not dwell on it too much, especially while in the same house as Vernon. Once the stew was set up on the stove to simmer for a while, Harry set the table for three. He knew he was not welcome and he knew he would most likely not be getting a meal. After setting the table he rushed back to the stove. The stew was cooking nicely, and savory aromas filled the kitchen, making Harry’s stomach growl. He threw a dozen frozen dinner rolls into the oven, knowing that the meal wouldn’t be complete without at least one side dish. Dinner was fully prepared soon after that, and Harry served the meal and placed the basket of rolls on the table near where Vernon would sit. Dudley had arrived while Harry was cooking and had gone to sit on the couch and watch TV with his father, and Petunia was still at her computer. Harry walked over to Petunia. “Aunt Petunia, dinner is ready, I’ll just be going upstairs now.” He said politely. 

“Yes, go on upstairs, but please,” She lowered her voice, “Take a dinner roll with you. And don’t let Vernon see it, for heaven’s sake.” 

Harry nodded, and hoped that she understood his silent ‘thank you’ before snatching a dinner roll and running up the stairs as fast as he could. He could hear them all settling down at the table to eat and he breathed a sigh of relief as he tore his roll in half. He pushed one half of it into Hedwig’s cage, and despite the fact that it wasn’t her usual food, she devoured it within a few seconds of it being given to her. Harry, on the other hand, tore his piece into smaller bites and ate slowly, savouring the small bit of food he had been given. The roll was warm and soft, and Harry felt as if he could eat at least twenty of them. The roll didn’t really alleviate any of the hunger Harry had been feeling, but he still felt better after eating it nonetheless. He laid down on his bed after he finished eating, staring up at the ceiling.

Times like this gave Harry the opportunity to really think. And whenever he did think, it always seemed to cause an unusual feeling that Harry couldn’t really place. It was like a bitterly cold chill was seeping through his body, deep in his bones. It was unnerving, to say the least. As Harry laid on his bed, he thought of Sirius who had died mere months ago. Harry had witnessed it, Harry had seen Sirius fall through The Veil. He shuddered to think about it. That night in the Department of Mysteries had not only hurt him, but had hurt his friends too. Ginny had been severely injured, and Ron would suffer permanent scarring. Ron was understandably pissed at Harry, but he still wished his best friend would come around. He had received letters from Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, but he hadn’t gotten anything from either Ron or Hermione. He had hoped that Hermione would still try to stay in contact even if Ron was upset, but it seemed that she was sticking to Ron’s side throughout this. Harry didn’t know what to do. The Weasleys had arranged for him to come spend the last week of summer vacation with them, but if Ron was still angry with him, he could only imagine how painfully awkward the week would be. Still, he had agreed to go, and even if Ron hated his guts and didn’t want to speak to him, it would still be better than staying at the Dursleys’. Swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in his throat, Harry rolled over and pulled his worn, scratchy blanket over himself. 

Hours passed, and Harry had drifted in and out of sleep. He had heard Dudley come upstairs and log onto one of his multiplayer games that he would play with his gang. A couple hours later, Petunia and Vernon had come upstairs, Vernon stopping at Harry’s door to lock all of the locks. The house lapsed into silence again, aside from the sound of Dudley’s video game. Harry quickly became restless, tossing and turning, twisting the pathetic blanket around his legs in the process. Hedwig had also become restless, and she began grasping the bars of her cage in her beak and rattling them. Harry sat bolt upright at the sound of metal clanging. 

“Hedwig, stop that!” He hissed at her, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. He knew exactly how Vernon would react to Hedwig waking him up in the middle of the night. Hedwig replied by giving Harry an extremely pissed look, before going back to rattling the bars of the cage again. Harry was frozen, he knew he couldn’t risk trying to let Hedwig out, his previous attempts had been futile and had only resulted in him getting caught, but if Hedwig kept this up, Vernon was bound to hear anyways. In his moment of hesitation, Hedwig decided to let out a frustrated hoot. It wasn’t exceptionally loud, no louder than the muffled sounds of Dudley’s video game, but Vernon could be heard swearing and getting up out of bed down the hall. Harry cursed too, although more at himself than at Hedwig, he couldn’t exactly blame her for being frustrated with the situation. The locks on Harry’s door rattled as Vernon furiously unlocked them, and Harry quickly tossed his blanket over Hedwig’s cage. 

The door swung open and Harry swallowed, his entire body tense as he tried to hide his fear. Vernon stood in the doorway, his face purple with rage. Harry huddled in the corner of the mattress, making himself as small as possible. Vernon stomped over and jerked Harry’s head up by his chin, forcing Harry to look at his face. 

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody bird quiet! We take you in, out of the goodness in our hearts, and you repay us with your absolute _**freakiness!**_” Vernon shouted, never mind the fact that he was angry about Hedwig being loud at night. Harry knew better than to talk back, especially as Vernon raised his free hand and landed a harsh slap to the side of his face. Harry’s cheek stung but he clenched his jaw to keep from making a single sound, still forced to make eye contact with Vernon. Vernon landed another strong blow to the side of Harry’s face, making his vision blur slightly. Vernon jerkily released Harry’s chin, before shoving him back hard enough to slam his head against the wall, resulting in a rather dull thud. Harry closed his eyes instinctively. 

“Boy! Look at me!” Vernon thundered, and Harry’s eyes snapped open. Vernon towered over Harry, making him feel smaller than he already was. “Hm, shame Petunia is home, isn’t it? There’s much more I could _do_ if she were out.” Vernon practically purred at Harry. Harry felt nauseous at the implied action. 

“You ought to be grateful for all that we’ve done for you.” Vernon hissed, leaning so his face was inches from Harry’s. Harry nodded, unsure of what would happen if he gave a verbal reply. Vernon made a ‘tsk’ noise and straightened up. “Let me hear that you’re grateful, boy, go on.” Vernon coaxed, and Harry knew he had no choice. 

“Thank you, sir, I am extremely grateful that you took me in and gave me a place to stay, and provided me with food and clothing.” Harry said, his voice void of any emotion or tone. It was common for him to have to proclaim how grateful he was for the Dursleys, and his response was pretty much always the same at this point, which seemed to satisfy Vernon despite how robotic it sounded. Vernon gave a sort of self-satisfied smile before landing one final blow to Harry’s chest and walking out of Harry’s room, locking all the locks behind him. Harry was grateful that Vernon had gone easier on him, despite the ringing in his head and dull ache creeping into his chest. He grabbed his blanket from where he had thrown it over Hedwig’s cage and laid down on his mattress, tucking the blanket around himself as tightly as possible. Hedwig gazed at him with seemingly sad eyes. Harry turned over to face the wall, trying to doze off to forget the pain in his head and chest.

‘Sixth year can not start soon enough,’ Harry thought bitterly, as exhaustion overcame him.


	2. The Burrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry I haven't updated in over a year! Life has been insane. The first three-fourths of this chapter was written August/September of 2019 and the last one-fourth was written August/September of 2020. The end kind of drops off awkwardly, I couldn't figure out a way to avoid that. I do know exactly what I'm going to do for the next chapter, we're going to get some awesome Ginny moments! I'll be editing the tags to show which direction the story is going to go now that I've changed the direction a bit (don't worry, it'll still be a Drarry fanfic)! All my life-y updates are at the end of this chapter in the notes! I apologise for any formatting errors, I'm super out of practice. I appreciate any and all support I get on this, updates will be posted more frequently now that I've got my life more under control! I'm sure a bunch of people who read this initially have totally forgotten about it and that's entirely my fault, I'm gonna try to be better. I love you all <3

The next couple of weeks flew by for Harry. It was a cycle of ‘punishments’, chores, and then more ‘punishments’. His entire body ached 24/7 and the abnormal heat wave didn’t help with his persistent headache. Petunia slipped him scraps and more water when she could, but he was usually limited to just enough water to survive, and whatever food Vernon decided was revolting enough to give to him. 

The night before Arthur Weasley was set to pick Harry up, Harry found himself standing in front of the cracked mirror that had been left in his bedroom. His hair had grown longer over the summer, long enough that he wondered why Petunia hadn’t attempted to hack it off with kitchen scissors, as she had done so often when he was younger. His hair hung loosely around his face, perhaps long enough to be pulled up, if he tried hard enough. He was still thin and short though, and he supposed that would never change. His usually pale skin was a mix of tan and sunburn. He grimaced as he looked at his muddy and overly large clothing. As hopeless as he was with fashion, he knew that looking as if he were a street rat was definitely not how he wanted to be seen. He sighed, turning away from the mirror to go sit on his bed. 

His things had already been packed up, not that he ever unpacked at the Dursleys’. His trunk sat in the cupboard under the stairs with all of his school supplies, Hedwig remained in her cage in his room, and he had a small, worn backpack filled with clothes that were less disgusting than the rest. His backpack was shoved in the bottom of his wardrobe, hidden away from Vernon who would surely tear it apart if he saw it, just for the hell of it. Knowing that he was all set to depart in the morning, and that Vernon was done tormenting him for the night, Harry curled up on his bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. 

The morning came quite quickly, and Harry found himself waking at the crack of dawn. Hedwig was pecking around the bottom of her cage, trying to find any scraps of salvageable food. The house was silent, aside from Vernon snoring down the hall. Harry’s door had been left unlocked for the night, which was an oddity, but considering Arthur Weasley’s impending arrival, it made sense. Harry dressed himself in some of his cleaner clothing before making his way downstairs to cook breakfast. All he had to do was prepare a decent meal and stay out of their way, and soon enough he’d be out of Privet Drive until next year. 

The kitchen was soon filled with the delicious aroma of a savory breakfast. Harry was preparing eggs, bacon, and fresh scones. The Dursleys began slowly emerging from their rooms, first Petunia, who came down dressed as formally as she did on days when Vernon brought important people to the house to work out deals. She took her seat at the table, and although her presence disrupted the sense of tranquility Harry had created, she was unthreatening and quiet. Dudley came downstairs next, still in his pajamas, his hair sticking out at odd angles. He never really bothered Harry unless around his gang or his father, so he simply flopped onto the couch and turned on the telly. Finally, right as Harry was finishing up with his cooking, Vernon came stomping down the stairs into the kitchen, looking just as irritable as ever.

Harry quickly served the food, turning on the coffee maker as he did in order to prepare Vernon’s coffee as soon as he could. Vernon liked his coffee just so, perfectly in between scalding hot and pleasantly warm, and always ready right as he was finished eating. The Dursley family ate rather quietly, Vernon and Dudley engrossed in the program on TV and Petunia enjoying the quiet that it gave her. The coffee was made and served just fine, and Harry slipped up to his room to grab his owl and his backpack. Arthur was set to arrive anytime around nine to nine-thirty, and the time was somewhere after eight-thirty, so Harry supposed he wouldn’t have too long to wait. Hedwig hooted softly at him as he picked up her cage. 

“I know, Hedwig, I’ll be able to feed you and let you out soon.” Harry replied in a whisper, slipping his fingers through the bars of the cage to scratch her feathers. She nipped affectionately at him. “C’mon, I’ve got to take you downstairs.” Harry said to her, although he knew she couldn’t exactly reply. He carried her cage and his backpack down the stairs, tucking them into a safe spot near the door before approaching Vernon. He was still seated in the kitchen, still watching whatever ridiculously boring program was on TV, his back facing Harry.

“Excuse me, Uncle Vernon.” Harry started, trying to keep his tone as polite and respectful as possible. 

“What is it, boy?” Vernon replied coldly.

“Mr. Weasley will be here soon, I need to get my trunk out from the cupboard.”

Vernon stood from his chair and whirled around, stepping closer to Harry. Harry instinctively flinched, earning a self-satisfied smile from Vernon.

“You will not use that demanding tone with me, do you hear me boy?” Vernon roared, his voice echoing in Harry’s head. Harry nodded in reply, unsure if he was permitted to speak. Vernon lunged forward and jerked Harry’s head up by his hair. Harry winced as the strain on his scalp only increased the intensity of his headache.

“I said, do you hear me, boy?” Vernon’s voice had taken on a dangerously quiet tone.

“Yes sir, I understand.” Harry replied, fighting to keep the tremour out of his voice. Vernon released his grip on Harry’s hair, looking disgusted at him. Harry stepped back, into the hall as Vernon grabbed the key to the cupboard. He pushed past Harry to roughly unlock the cupboard, just as a car pulling up could be heard outside. Harry’s trunk was roughly shoved at him as there was a knock at the door. Petunia emerged from wherever she had been, probably the back garden if Harry had to guess, and opened the door, plastering on her all-too-happy smile. She opened the door as Harry struggled with the weight of his trunk, Vernon standing menacingly behind him.

Arthur Weasley stood outside Number Four, Privet Drive, dressed in what could only be described as a sad attempt at muggle fashion. He wore a plaid button up that appeared to be a size too large, and striped pants, which were a dreadful faded maroon. He smiled cheerfully at the Dursleys, and then at Harry as he peeked his head out from behind Petunia. 

“Hello Mr. Weasley… it’s a… pleasure to see you again.” Petunia weakly attempted a formal greeting. 

“Ah yes, Petunia Dursley, pleasure to see you as well,” Arthur replied, either not noticing or choosing to ignore how awkward the situation was. Vernon shoved Harry forward and into the doorway. 

“Hurry up and take him. We haven’t got time to chat with your lot,” Vernon hissed bitterly. 

“Surely you wish to say goodbye to your nephew? You aren’t going to see him until next summer,” Arthur tilted his head curiously, peering behind Petunia to look at Vernon.

“It’s alright, Mr. Weasley. He said goodbye before you got here,” Harry quickly attempted to smooth what would soon become a situation over. Dudley, curious about the conversation, poked his head out from the living room. 

“If you insist, Harry. Let me help you with your things,” Arthur replied calmly, taking Harry’s trunk from him. Harry bent and grabbed his backpack and Hedwig from where he had placed them by the door. Arthur turned and walked towards his car, Harry following closely. The door could be heard slamming behind them, but Harry didn’t have it in him to care. Arthur’s car was an older Ford, similar to the Anglia. It was slightly more battered than the Anglia had been in its better days. Arthur opened the door to the backseat and slid Harry’s trunk onto the seat. Harry set Hedwig gently on the seat next to his trunk and placed his bag on the floor, before making his way over to the passenger seat. Arthur hopped into the driver’s seat and started the car. After Harry got settled in and they were a bit down the road, Arthur decided to break the silence. 

“We haven’t heard much from you this summer, how have you been?” Arthur asked, glancing over at Harry before moving his eyes back to the road.

“I’ve been alright. My summer has been like usual. I couldn’t let Hedwig out so I wasn’t able to send many letters.” Harry shrugged.

“Ron said he’s been writing, could you have sent something back with Pigwidgeon?”

“I haven’t heard from Ron. I wrote to Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, though, but they sent Errol and I was worried about working him too hard.” Harry replied truthfully.

“Ron hasn’t been writing? That’s quite out of character.” Arthur mused, and the car lapsed back into silence.

They arrived at The Burrow a little after lunch time, and Harry could hear the bustle of Molly cleaning up dishes as they approached the door. Arthur insisted upon carrying Harry’s trunk, so Harry got the door for him, and soon he found himself standing in the Weasley’s kitchen with Molly hugging him tightly. She pulled back and looked him over.

“It’s so good to see you, Harry, but you are far too thin still.” Molly stated, not unkindly. 

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley. May I let Hedwig out? She’s desperate to go hunting.” Harry replied, lifting his hand that held Hedwig’s cage.

“Of course, Harry dear, and please call me Molly. No need to be so formal.” She grinned at him and ruffled his hair. Arthur had settled quietly into his comfy chair in the space between the kitchen and the living room, Harry’s trunk leaning on the end table beside the chair. Harry set his backpack on the floor before placing Hedwig’s cage on a nearby chair. He heard Molly opening up the kitchen window as he tried valiantly to undo the lock on his owl’s cage. 

“Um, Molly? Can you-” He started to ask before cutting himself off, knowing it would only raise more questions if anyone really looked at the state of Hedwig. 

“Yes, dear? What is it?” Molly inquired, coming to stand next to Harry again. 

“Hedwig is… locked in her cage…” He mumbled, gesturing lamely to the large padlock on the front of the cage. Hedwig wasn’t looking too great herself, she was thinner than a standard owl and her feathers were dull. There was also a great amount of her feathers at the bottom of her cage, either from her pulling them out herself or from them falling out due to lack of basic nutrition. Harry chewed his lower lip anxiously, he really didn’t want to have to think up an excuse as to why she was locked in, but it would be even worse if he told Molly what happened at the Dursleys’ house. She’d likely storm over to Privet Drive and really tear into the Dursleys, and then when he inevitably would be forced back to them next summer, they’d make sure he’d never see the light of day again. He was snapped out of his increasingly dark thoughts by Molly uttering a simple unlocking charm. The padlock popped open and slipped off the bars of the cage, clattering first to the chair and then bouncing to the floor. Neither Molly or Harry made a move towards it at first, both staring semi-numbly at the offending object. Harry cleared his throat.

“Thank you, I’ll just let Hedwig out now.” He gently pulled Hedwig from her cage, allowing her to nip at his ears and face. As soon as she was brought close to the window, she spread her wings and took off, albeit a bit awkwardly due to months without flying. Harry turned back to Molly, who was now holding the lock. 

“Harry…” She began. He shook his head.

“It’s nothing, I swear. I just couldn’t let her out with everything that’s been going on, you know, with the Death Eater sightings and all. Hedwig is too distinct. My uncle just wanted to make sure she would stay in, so we’d all be safe.” Harry knew he was rambling, but it didn’t matter. It was a bullshit excuse and he was sure Molly could see right through it, but instead she sighed and nodded. 

“Alright, if you insist. Now let’s get you some food, I’m sure you’re hungry after being in the car for so long.” She began bustling around the kitchen, all her cheerful, motherly energy returned. Harry took the spot he usually sat in whenever he stayed at the Burrow and within minutes, a plate of sandwiches was placed in front of him. With a flick of her wand, Molly set a glass of water down in front of him as well. 

“Thank you! These look delicious, Molly!” Harry beamed at her. 

“Oh, don’t flatter me, they’re just sandwiches.” She replied, although the satisfied grin on her face told Harry that she enjoyed the praise. 

After finishing his lunch, and helping Molly clean up the remaining dishes despite her insistence that she could do it on her own, Harry made his way up to Ron’s room. Molly had told him that only Ron and Ginny were currently home, although the twins would be arriving in the evening to stay for the week, so they could see Harry. The walk to Ron’s room seemed to take forever, and Harry was dreading whatever Ron would say to him. The last thing Ron had said before summer break had not been pleasant in the slightest, and the lack of communication for the whole summer was definitely not a good sign. He knocked hesitantly on Ron’s door, and upon the hollered “come in!”, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Ron?” Harry began quietly. Ron set down his Quidditch magazine he was reading and sat up on his bed. His face was set in a fierce glare and Harry found himself wishing for his bedroom back at Privet Drive.

“Potter. Back to drag my family into danger?” Ron shoved his arms towards Harry, showing off the ugly, winding, raised scars that he had gotten from tangling with the brain in the Department of Mysteries.

“It’s not like that, I didn’t want you to follow me! I was going to go alone.” Harry found himself wincing away from Ron’s arms and angry stance.

“I only followed because I thought Sirius was actually in danger! All I had to go off of was your stupid vision which turned out to be fake! Ginny could have lost the use of her legs! I could have lost my arms! But all you care about is Sirius! Wake up, Potter, he’s _dead_! You only drag people into danger and I’m sick of it. You could be the next dark lord for all I know.” Ron ended his tirade, panting and face flushed with anger. Harry stood in the doorway, gaping at Ron. 

“Well? Nothing to say? That’s what I thought.” Ron laid back down on his bed, opening up his Quidditch magazine and resuming it where he had left off. Harry bit the inside of his cheek and left the room, closing the door behind him. He took a shaky breath, subconsciously noticing that the conversation downstairs had come to halt. Twin pops came from either side of him and he found himself squished between Fred and George, both wearing identical expressions of confusion. They looped their arms through Harry’s and began walking down the stairs. 

“We heard our little Ronnikins being a prat, don’t worry though, you’ll always be our favourite little brother.” Fred said, breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, don’t pay him any mind, he’s been in a right snit all summer.” George added, opening the door to the twins’ room and going to flop on his bed. Harry and Fred followed, Fred digging out a beanbag chair for Harry from inside the rather cramped closet. 

“When did you two get here? I didn’t see you when I arrived.” Harry tried to change the subject. 

“Oh, George, our little brother has mastered the art of changing the subject! Very stealthy of you!” Fred wiggled his eyebrows at Harry. “We got here right after you went up to Ron’s room. We’ll be staying the week, since you’ll be here.”

“Angelina’s going to take care of the shop, so don’t even say a peep about it!” George quickly piped up, noticing the quizzical expression on Harry’s face.

“Jeez, can you read minds or something? That was scary, even for you.” Harry teased, leaning back on the beanbag chair, his long hair brushing against the wooden floor. 

“So, since Ron sucks right now, you can room with us while you’re here! We promise not to not prank you too much.” Fred laughed, making a ‘cross my heart and hope to die’ motion with George. Outside the door, Molly could be heard walking with heavy footsteps up the stairs. The door to Ron’s room creaked open, and then there was muffled shouting, the words not fully made out, although Harry caught bits of “extremely rude!” and “I didn’t raise you like this!” After the shouting had stopped, Molly walked down the stairs with much lighter footsteps, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He felt awful for Ron getting yelled at by his mother, even though his comments had stung. 

That evening passed by in a blur for Harry. There was so much chatting and more chatting that Harry felt his throat would surely give out before everyone was ready to retire for the night. It seemed as though all the Weasleys were overcompensating for Ron’s rude behaviour. He caught Ginny’s eyes from across the living room while they were all relaxing on the worn furniture, although she quickly turned away when Ron elbowed her in the ribs. Feeling a little disappointed that he couldn’t even talk to Ginny, he politely excused himself from the living room and made his way up to the twins’s bedroom, where a cot had been set up for him. After changing into his pajamas and brushing his teeth, he crawled into his bed and pulled the soft, hand-crocheted blanket up to his chin. Breathing in the comforting scent of the Weasleys’ home; the smell of fresh baking, cinnamon scented cleaning products, and happiness, he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. He was so exhausted that he hadn’t noticed Ginny pop her head into the room on her way upstairs, a sad and curious expression on her face. The twins came up to their room shortly after, whispering amongst themselves. Soon, everyone had slipped off to bed, and the sound of a soft breeze could be heard through the drafty house, as well as an owl hooting, which may have been Errol, Pigwidgeon, or Hedwig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I guess I should tell you all everything that's new and life-y! I'll just make a list since a lot can happen in a year (whoops, I'll try not to go so long without updating :') )
> 
> I ended a friendship with my former best friend in August 2019. It wasn't a healthy friendship and it needed to happen, but it affected me deeply and it was hard to use the internet without getting panicky for a while, since we had been internet friends.
> 
> I adopted a cat in October 2019! Her name is Luna and she's the most crazy cat I've ever met. Whenever I move out, I'll get to take her with me, which is probably just because she's way too insane for my parents to take care of. She was a stray kitten who was starving, so I fed her and now she's completely bonded to me and my family.
> 
> I got diagnosed with depression in November 2019. I've been on medication since then so I have more energy now and I'm able to do more, but for a while I could hardly get out a bed. This is probably oversharing, but it's an important subject to talk about! Depression is serious and it hit me like a truck. I was fine for so long until I just wasn't anymore. I still have bad days but I know everything will be alright. 
> 
> Nothing much happened from then until summer 2020, when I realised that I'm transgender. I use he/they pronouns now (although I prefer he/him). I'm still deciding on a name, but I'm going to be changing my writing profiles to reflect that I'm a dude. It's taking some getting used to but I feel so much happier with my short hair and new clothes. Any name suggestions are appreciated, I love unique and interesting names. 
> 
> I started college just this August which is crazy! I also turn 18 on September 9th, which is like... an hour away as I'm typing this! I feel so old :'). I still can't drive too, I'm way too scared of getting into a wreck. And I've still got my wisdom teeth which is a big source of anxiety for me, that kind of procedure is so scary!
> 
> Anyways, now that I'm done oversharing, I appreciate you all so much! I'd be nowhere without readers and even if I don't reply to comments, I read them all and take them all into account! If you have any ideas about where you think my story should go, feel free to tell me! No guarantees, but I love seeing new theories and ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! First chapters are always rough, so this may have not been too terribly good, but now I have a place to start and pick up from, so hopefully future chapters will be better!


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